


Little Lion Man

by cxhztile



Series: Winding Roads Through Middle Earth [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 14:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxhztile/pseuds/cxhztile
Summary: "Weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start... But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line. I really f*cked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?"





	Little Lion Man

The rocky surface of the Carrock wasn’t very appealing but it was certainly more pleasant than a cliff of burning trees and being hunted by orcs.

Despite the panic bubbled in his chest, Thorin had stood his ground against Azog and his mangy mutt of a Warg. However, he still ended up chewed and tossed like a ragdoll and sustained less-than-pretty wounds. Surely he’d survive them but they’d leave some nasty scars on his side.

Surprisingly, as he lay weak and defenseless on the ground, a stout figure came to his aid. While he wasn’t fond of being a damsel in distress, there wasn’t much else he could do except lie there and watch. Their burglar had somehow grown a good bit of courage and was standing up to the pale orc, no matter the intimidation factor.

The last thing Thorin saw before blacking out was the hobbit driving forward, dagger that was not much more than a letter-opener drawn and ready to pierce some disgusting hide. The others of the company were being fled by Gandalf’s eagle companions, leaving only Bilbo in his blind rage, Gandalf, and Thorin’s unconscious body. Before being carried off, Bilbo showed one last display of what happens when someone disrupts where his loyalties lie, which landed him a large slash spanning from the top of his right shoulder diagonally down his chest, coming close to scathing his nipple. His undershirt and part of his coat were badly torn in the process but he secretly had hope he had packed spares.

Upon the rocky terrace, everyone was deposited and waited less than patiently for Thorin to come to. Bilbo had sat at his side breathing heavily until jumping to his feet and stepping back quite a ways when he did wake. Thorin was slow to get up and register his surroundings but once he did, he was already mentally nursing a speech of sorts, nonetheless making Bilbo’s heart start to sink into his stomach.

“You… What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!,” Thorin began with unbridled frustration, “Did I not say that you would be a burden-”

“Yes, yes…” As lowly as he felt and as painful as his heart was gripping, Bilbo muttered in agreement below his breath. For a moment, he noted Thorin beginning to step towards him but seconds later, his vision went spotty as his stomach turned and his ears began a painfully dull ring. He sank to his knees ever so slowly and didn’t realize Thorin ran to catch him only just before he fainted.

* * *

The company ended up taking refuge in the leafy foliage of a forest below the Carrock, for privacy and protection from unwanted visitors. Even in the face of the reasonable argument that staying on the high ground would be better, Thorin refused and said he was going down whether they would join him or not. So, the pack of dwarves climbed down as carefully as they could, keeping an eye on Thorin who was leading them down while carrying their burglar in his arms.

He gently took a seat beneath a girthy ash tree and crossed his legs so Bilbo rested comfortably in his lap. He was just far enough to the edge of the tree’s branches to feel a good amount of heat when the fire sparked.

It took quite a bit of convincing to reluctantly let his wounds be tended to, which only happened under the pretenses that Bilbo’s were examined and his vitals checked first. Thorin’s fur coat was strewn on the seemingly lifeless body after bandages were wrapped on the gaping gash. After the medical treating, he cradled Bilbo closer to his chest and glared at any who dared to come near.

Dwarrows were possessive by nature, yes, but it reminded everyone of legends they had heard of dwarves being even more so after their dwarrowdam fell ill, gave birth, or anything of those sorts. It was especially odd given they were not even betrothed and Thorin had been adamant in his resentment, even though the dwarves could tell he was mostly just guarding himself and projecting doubt of their overall mission. Regardless, they had seen the flicker in his eye as he had looked over Bilbo when his trophy scratch from Azog was being dressed.

There were a handful of hours that passed before Bilbo awoke, so everyone else kept themselves occupied to relinquish boredom and not do so much worrying themselves. Thorin was amidst studying the hobbit’s round face for the hundredth time in the past five hours, counting every freckle and tracing the curves with his eyes, so he knew immediately when Bilbo stirred and his eyelashes began to flutter. Thorin picked his head up from the close proximity where it had been (he knew he didn’t see too well at a distance and had to move closer for a better view) and straightened his posture in the process.

“You… What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed… Did say you would be a burden,” Thorin started his speech all over but this time in a much softer tone (Bilbo’s heart was in his gut again, though), “that you would not survive in the wild, and that you have no place amongst us?”

Bilbo’s throat was closed shut with a turmoil of internal emotions so he stuck to searching Thorin’s eyes. The usually striking blue had gone grey and looked lost behind the wet cloudiness. The wetness threatened to overflow but he did it by beginning to lean his head into Bilbo’s shoulder and start a half-cradled attempt at a hug.

“I’ve never been so wrong in all my life…” The sentence came out as pretty much a choked sob and the thought of that was more painful than anything. Bilbo realized that the bite on Thorin’s side must have been irritating but certainly not as wrenching as the thought of losing their small and simple little hobbit. Being pained by the idea as well, he weakly drew his arms up and wrapped them around the back of Thorin’s neck, finger threaded into several black curls.

All who watched let out a sigh of relief seeing them do something in the semblance of reconciling, especially after all their pining thus far. It wouldn’t be for a long while that there would be another intimate moment such as this but it was better to have one now and cherish it until the next.

***

It was true that it was another few months until something as touching occurred again.

The reclaiming of Erebor and the joy felt there was nice but not so grand of a feat. And ended up turning sour as Bilbo was expelled in bitter fashion for turning over the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard due to his concern for Thorin’s affliction by dragon sickness. The bruises were around his neck and on his back for nearly a month after Thorin aggressively pinned him to the top of the wall upon hearing the betrayal.

Though the hobbit was accepted among the mix of elves and men, he spoke little and was hurt anytime he dared to look up at the mountain. Gandalf understood the pain he caught onto the times he noticed Bilbo with a longing stare towards Erebor; he missed the company, Thorin most of all, and was on the verges of regretting his decision as far as his fourteenth share. However, the wizard always reassured him it was for the better.

Of course, it was far too hard to think of the utility of it as the battle raged and five armies were all pitted against one another on the makeshift battlefield. He wanted so desperately to be back on the side of the combined dwarrow armies but remembered his banishment and how Thorin would likely throw him off the gate for real this time. So he kept to himself, scurrying around, eventually making it up Ravenhill. He made his post there and anxiously defended against the few orcs that came his way.

At some point or another, he was knocked clean out, falling slump against a rock. It surely wasn’t favorable but there wasn’t much he could do but deal with the splitting headache when he woke. Soon enough, he saw Thorin challenging the pale orc once again and seeing Thorin allowing himself to be stabbed first in the foot then the chest caused him to gather up the last bit of his courage. Whatever happened flashed by in an adrenaline blur until he found himself faint, as per tradition.

* * *

What took place in actuality was quite the spectacle. Thorin was on the verge of relinquishing his willpower and let Azog have his way when there was a silent haste on the hill that propelled someone onto the fiendish orc. He had to blink to recognize who it was and even then it was shocking.

It felt like ages since he last saw Bilbo in a white blinding rage over his safety. The phenomena rearing its head once more meant he actually had a chance to execute this defeat and properly dispose of his nemesis. When the hobbit had flung himself off the edge of the hill, he managed to land directly onto Azog’s back, forcing the blade deeper into Thorin’s chest momentarily before it was ripped out so the orc could whip his head around on the invader.

Bilbo was preparing to swing his meager blade to chop that head clean off when Azog grasped the fur of his coat and threw him onto his back onto the ice. There was a loud cracking sound on impact that Thorin could only guess was either the ice sheet or Bilbo’s spine, preferably the former. In any case, he only had not even a full minute to figure out how to help his struggling burglar, who was mid-wince from devilish slice being made in the opposite direction of his already existing scar tissue.

In the recoil, Bilbo stabbed upwards and Thorin’s quick thinking lead him to get up in seconds flat to pierce in the same area on the backside. Their blades were simultaneously removed and Thorin used his boot to full-force kick over the soon-to-die body so it wouldn’t dare touch the hobbit he was about to scoop into his arms. He waited until Azog stopped twitching to meet Bilbo’s eye below and take note that both their chests were heaving to take in air. Even if Bilbo was only on an adrenaline high, it still warmed Thorin’s already thawing heart to see the smile pursued on his lips before he promptly passed out, as always.

For a long while, Thorin sat there on the ice, listening to the sound of war behind him, watching the eagles twirling in the sky as he prayed to Mahal his lungs weren’t filling with blood. He just wanted to take in the warmth of a fire and rejoice with his people, those who lived of course. He was worried that his sister-sons were truly done for as he almost had been but he had a spark of hope for their sakes. Dis would have his head either way, though.

He sighed heavily, coughing a bit since there was a hole settled in his chest, and returned his gaze to Bilbo in his lap. That’s when he finally realized he lacked to see a blinding glimmer and even gingerly double checked; no mithril coat.  ** _Baggins, you fool,_**  he thought,  ** _You mighty fool…_**

The sun was beginning to set when Gandalf scouted him out. Behind the wizard was various surviving members of the company and a cheer rang throughout at the sight of their king alive. He was glad to see them as well but urged that Bilbo be tended to, then himself. Gandalf nodded and led the group to the medical tents, keeping a limping Thorin in his peripheral vision. Nobody could say they were that surprised Bilbo was asleep enough not to be woken by being jostled around as they climbed the rocky path into where the tents were situated.

The hobbit was set onto an open cot and Thorin sat beside him, keeping their hands together as Bilbo’s wound was wrapped. He was too caught up in keeping an eye on Bilbo’s breathing that he became flustered when he realized they were ready to tend to his. They could only stand idly afterwards since the king refused to move to his own cot and lie on his back. Instead, he curled up on his side and pulled Bilbo towards him, head on shoulder and arm resting comfortably on the soft pudge of his waist.

* * *

The first thing Bilbo noticed when he woke was the heat pressed on his side, definitely not from the fur pelt across him that barely touched his chest. He used one hand to rub his bleary eyes and realized the mountain of black curls rested on his shoulder and flowed outwards. There was beard hair tickling his previous scar and hot breath whose outskirts touched his neck.

The calloused hand on the chub of his stomach confirmed his suspicion that it was Thorin. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, head a mess from adrenaline even though it was now the dead of night, and not sure where they stood in general. As far as he knew, he wasn’t to be caught dead in the king’s crosshairs yet here the king was, holding him tenderly. The dark spiral his brain was going down produced an unsurpressed shudder, which seemed enough to wake Thorin.

“Bilbo.” He whispered softly, seeing the hobbit’s face turn away from him in what little of the pale moonlight came through the canvas of the tent.

“Am I still banished?” Bilbo’s tone was blunt but Thorin couldn’t blame him. He had yet to learn that the king has overcome the dragon sickness.

“No, I’ve since come to my wits and lifted it.”

“A merry thing… Coming to your senses…” Bilbo would have said he was happy but he was far too exhausted to feel anything in that moment.

“However, it is your choice to accept it or not.” Thorin muttered.

“Huh?”

“I would be an unjust king if I were to limit you choosing whether to stay here in Erebor or return to the Shire.” As much as it would break his heart if it were the latter, Thorin would empathize if Bilbo wanted to call it quits on his adventuring days and go back to his armchair and books.

The problem was… Bilbo had already decided. He realized days before where he wanted to be; while his hole under the hill meant past comfort, he had gained a new comfort at Thorin’s side and being gathered around by the company. He wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs but his throat was choked, not from the soreness of bruises but from the tear welting in his eyes.

At the first snivel, Thorin sat up immediately and as best he could in the small space he called his half of the cot. He knew he needed to watch how much pressure he set on his foot that had the stab wound but his mind was too busy panicking on what to do for comfort. All he could think of was to kiss the cheek faced upwards and hope his head would turn so his forehead came into view, though he wasn’t sure how far affection would get him. He did the forehead kissing opportunity presented but after the fact, he noticed the sad look of the wet eyes and sank back, wanting to press his own forehead into Bilbo’s exposed collarbone but instead leaned as far back as he could, nearly falling out of the cot.

Bilbo jolted up to catch him and right them both, noticing how Thorin immediately melted as his strong biceps were caught in small hands. The grasp tightened as Thorin went to move to another cot in his sudden depression. Bilbo’s tear stained cheeks were beginning to dry and his eyebrow cocked to ask where he thought he was going.

“I suppose you would most likely prefer to return home, especially after my harsh tongue at the gate.” Thorin’s voice had gone gravel quickly and his shoulders had far lost their royal posture.

“Well, not if you’re going to pout for the rest of time if I do.” Bilbo joked, taking Thorin’s cheeks in his palms and bringing his head down to kiss his forehead.

“There would be room, of course, in Erebor for my residence?” He continued waiting as Thorin’s eyes met his. They mutually smiled and pressed their foreheads as their hands intertwined in their laps.

“For you?  _The world_.”

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE ridicule me. ik this is very bad but tumblr refused to let me post it so.


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